


Lots of Good Things Here

by Snowfilly1



Series: Make the Yuletide Gay 2020 [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Falling In Love, Fluff, Food, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Our Side Yule prompts 2020, Plants, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfilly1/pseuds/Snowfilly1
Summary: 'Some of the animals have become quite fierce now. And some of the plants have started eating things, even!'For the 'Something to Nibble' prompt. Crawly and Aziraphale meet for the second time in the Garden. Just another early moment in their friendship; a sunny afternoon in Eden and new experiences to share.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Make the Yuletide Gay 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032006
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46
Collections: Make the Yuletide Gay 2020





	Lots of Good Things Here

**Author's Note:**

> A light-hearted but non Christmassy response to the 'Something to Nibble' prompt. No warnings, just an angel and a demon having a chat in the sunshine. 
> 
> There's a Douglas Adams reference in here that I liked too much to alter. Not sorry. 
> 
> The carnivorous plants are probably the ones Terry Pratchett ended up owning.

'What are you doing, angel?' Crawly gets to the end of his sentence, realises it was a question and sighs. He'd got away with it last time, with the angel - Aziraphale - too distracted by the rain storm, but he's probably used up whatever luck he was due on Earth already. He should have stopped asking questions. 

'Oh! Crawly!' But it's a pleased exclamation, one that stirs something deep down in his memories. Too long ago, and under a different name, to have left anything aside from a feeling of recognition. 

Once upon a time, in somewhere that wasn't Earth, other beings had been glad to see Crawly. It hurts the silk-softness of his heart; forces him to look away. 

'Come and sit down?'

Aziraphale's sitting with his back against the Eastern Wall of Eden. He's still wearing white robes, although Crawly notes he's barefoot now. The grass is sun warmed enough that he can pretend to himself it's just a nice place for a sometime serpent to bask, and the angel's proximity doesn't factor into things at all. 

He drops to the ground a bit in front of Aziraphale - the wall will only get in the way of proper lounging - and tries to curl up a bit. It's not worked in this form so far, but there's probably a knack to it. 

'Are you comfortable?' Aziraphale asks after a minute.

Right. Maybe it's alright for actual angels to ask questions these days. Maybe Aziraphale really does want to know if...and he blinks at that, the new movement feeling strange and scratchy on eyes that don't really know how it works. 

Crawly does feel comfortable. 

Maybe for the first time in this body. Certainly for the first time on Earth. 

'I am,' and if there's a touch of wonder, a touch of reverence in his reply, well... 

'Oh, good,' and there's that smile again that he'd half convinced himself was an illusion, a dreamer's hope. 'I thought you might like it here if you stayed around a while longer.'

Crawly nods, long hair tickling the sides of his face. Perhaps he'll tie it out the way somehow. 'I didn't think you'd still be here.'

'Oh. Oh well, after Adam and Eve left, there wasn't really much for me to do. I mean, my orders were to protect the humans and the Garden and I can't very well look after them both if they're in different places, can I? And they've got the sword, so I believe they'll be able to take care of themselves.'

'Heaven haven't given you any new orders, then?'

'Heaven? Oh, gracious no. They're very busy. Still working on all the animals and things, can you believe it? Far more important than me.'

It's said with such conviction that Crawly finds himself believing it for a moment. Of course Heaven has more important things than a pair of humans and an angel to worry about; of course angels have never really mattered. Why else would they throw so many of them out? You don't do that if the things you're throwing away actually count for something individually. 

And then he looks at Aziraphale, who's fussing with the hem of his robe and gazing out to where they'd last seen Adam and Eve, and he thinks suddenly, No. He is important. 

'I'm sure you're doing the right thing, then. You wouldn't want anyone else coming in the Garden, would you?'

'No. Some of the animals have become quite fierce now. And some of the plants have started eating things, even!'

'Plants eating things?' Crawly shoots a suspicious look at the grass they're sitting on. Aside from the way it's stained Aziraphale's robe with green, it seems mostly harmless. But then, the first time he'd seen a lion, it had been stretched out sunbathing. 

'They've got heads like little traps and if a fly lands on them, they open up and swallow the fly whole. It's really quite...oh, I don't expect it's very interesting to you, is it? You must have seen all sorts of interesting plants down in Hell and I'm just prattling on.'

'No! Angel, please, that's the coolest thing I've heard today.' It really is. There are no plants in Hell at all.

For a moment, he thinks Aziraphale thinks that he's joking. Then the angel smiles and launches into an account of other interesting things in the Garden and Crawly leans a little towards him, entranced. Aziraphale knows things he doesn't; is prepared to share them in his clever words and descriptions that make Crawly feel like he's actually seen the things they're talking about. 

Eventually, Aziraphale talks himself to a standstill again and glances over at Crawly. There's something almost assessing in that look, which makes his skin tingle and his face burn, even as he tries to convince himself that demons don't blush. 

'And anyway, dear, I realised I never answered you earlier. How terribly rude of me.'

He doesn't like his name. It sits uncomfortably with him, twisting something deep inside him every time it's used. But 'dear' fits so well, feels so right. If demons are made for anything, perhaps he's made to be Aziraphale's 'dear.' 

'I can't even remember what I asked,' he hedges. That way, it isn't quite another question. Although Aziraphale's responded to them all with delight so far. 

'You asked me what I was doing. When you saw me earlier. I think 'hello' is a more polite greeting but nevermind. I was eating.'

Crawly manages not to parrot 'eating?' by choking in surprise instead. 

'They told us everything on Earth would be poisonous to demons,' he manages after a moment. 'That we shouldn't eat or drink anything.'

Aziraphale looks crestfallen. 'Well, they didn't tell me anything like that. Adam and Eve kept asking me to share food with them; it's a thing that humans do when they like someone. They have dinner together. It would have been rude to keep refusing, don't you think?'

'It still could have been dangerous,' Crawly retorts. He doesn't want to examine why he's uncomfortable with an angel doing something dangerous. 

'I don't think so. All the plants in the Garden are safe. And some of them are very tasty. You could try some.'

'You're not meant to be tempting me, angel.' And that name feels as right on his tongue as 'dear' does in his ears. 

'I don't see why not. If you were an angel once, it stands to reason I could do your job. Anyway, you'll like these.'

It's a peach he holds out, soft and fuzzy and harmless looking. It smells sweet enough to stir recollections of mead and manna; Aziraphale gazes at him, almost hopefully and he can feel himself falling again, the same feeling he'd had when a white wing had stretched up and over him on the Wall. 

Aziraphale wants to make him happy. 

Crawly isn't sure that's possible but he wants to make Aziraphale proud. 

So he grabs the fruit and bites into it before he has a chance to think, to doubt. He was an angel once, and Aziraphale's an angel still, so maybe Hell was wrong. 

It's sweet. Decadently, almost disgustingly sweet. It tastes of sunshine and grass and the promise of all good things. Is that how Aziraphale tastes now?

He eats it all, snake tongue flickering around the stone to get the last of the flesh off, and he's aware that Aziraphale's watched every second; those blue-grey-storm cloud-opal eyes never leaving him. But it's with interest, with curiosity; there's no judgement or malice there. 

Aziraphale, apparently, finds him fascinating. Which is a mutual thing. 

'What do you think?'

'It's...very good.'

'There's lots of good things here,' Aziraphale says, as though letting Crawly into a secret. 'I like it here.'

Crawly nibbles at the last piece of skin from the peach. The sunlight is warm, the grass is soft. Aziraphale just ... is. Sitting there and letting Crawly's world reassemble itself with the angel at the centre. 

'I do, too.' 

'I hope you'll stay up here a while longer, then,' and Crawly just nods in reply.   
He hopes. Oh, how he hopes.

**Author's Note:**

> I've written fills for several other prompts from this lot, including a couple of non A/C ones. I'm posting them as a series so it'll be easier to tag them all.


End file.
